


Split-Skull Theory

by TurkeyEgss



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Car Accident, Determination, Doomed Timelines, Gaster - Freeform, Gen, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Minor Self Harm, Serious Injuries, pain all around, psa determination is bad for you kiddos, sans and pap are gaster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurkeyEgss/pseuds/TurkeyEgss
Summary: After a life-changing accident, and an equally life-changing solution, Papyrus and Sans must confront their past, if there is any hope for their future. They will have to confront the question of Gaster, and the ending of the timelines, changing how they perceive the world, and each other forever. Things may not ever be the same again, but if nothing is done, there may be nothing to return to.





	1. The Show

The brothers completed each other. One boisterous about even the smallest of things, another keeping his achievements and secrets in the shadows. One optimistic and full of energy, the other, well... quite the opposite. Even their physical appearances seemed oddly differing, one towering over the other, who was short and (oddly enough for a skeleton) plump. Yet despite all of this, they came together in a way that most monsters have never achieved.

Yet, despite this, even they fought on occasions, as most siblings do. Said fighting often included very loud shouting.

"SANS, GET DOWN HERE IMMEDIATELY!" Shouted Papyrus, in his shrill, nasally voice. The tall skeleton was clad in his usual "battle body", a white chest plate with blue shorts. His usual red scarf was absent, replaced with a pink and black scarf adorned with the initials "MTT".

Sans shifted in his bed, ever so slightly. His entire body ached, particularly in his chest and forehead, his mind shaking with the vague recollection of a time long past. Of a blade cutting from his shoulder blade into his rib cage, only manifesting in waking as a faint memory of pain. His body, his mind, wracked with both fear and tiredness, seemed to refuse to function.

"i'm coming." That was lie. Sans laid in his bed, hoping for once that the reset would just happen already, so he didn't have to live this unfulfilling life of dread on the surface. Sans grunted, shifting slightly in his sheets.

"NO YOU'RE NOT!" Said Papyrus, leaning over Sans, picking up the smaller skeleton from his bed. "COME ON, YOU'RE GOING TO MISS METTATON'S CONCERT!"

"i'll watch it on tv later." Sans uncomfortably shifted in Papyrus' grasp. Usually, he'd be all up for being carried, but today, even the sensation of cold air on his bones seemed unbearable.

"COME ON, DIDN'T YOU WANT TO GO TO THE CONCERT?" Papyrus said, putting Sans back down into his bed. "YOU GOT US BOTH TICKETS, AND I THOUGHT YOU LOVED METTATON'S MUSIC."

"yeah, you can give my ticket to undyne. alphys gets in free anyways, i'm sure the'd enjoy the time together." Sans slumped back into his bed. Papyrus was giving him a stare that could cut steel, though it softened a bit when he saw Sans clutch at his ribs. Sans never told Papyrus about his pains, but he was pretty sure Papyrus knew anyways.

"ALL RIGHT, FINE. AT LEAST BE DRESSED BY THE TIME I GET BACK THOUGH!" Shouted Papyrus, exiting the room, slamming the door in a typically exaggerated fashion.

"alright." Sans liked how Papyrus rarely questioned him about his unusual knowledge. How he just kind of accepted that him and Alphys used to be friends with little explanation. It was relaxing.

Some things were best left hidden.

* * *

The Great Papyrus was shaking in the seat of his brilliant red sports car. His gloves gripped firmly onto the wheel, and he droved with speed and confidence. The winding whistling through his skull was such a good feeling, chilling yet invigorating. If one thing felt off, it was that the streets felt all-too-empty without a supernaturally speedy tricycle next to him.

Ah well. If Papyrus had learned anything over the past few months, it was that it was near impossible to get Sans to go somewhere he didn't want to on the surface. Just a few weeks ago, he had to carry Sans to work when he refused to leave his bed. Ever since then, he's had to do it two more times. It concerned Papyrus, quite honestly. Not the fact that Sans was sleeping, he did that at his work anyways, but the fact that he was getting so lazy that he wouldn't even leave his bed to sleep made Papyrus anxious. This night was supposed to help him, but it seems that his problem just kept getting worse and worse.

Suddenly, Papyrus, snapping back to the road, realised that he wasn't looking at where he needed to go. He was definitely not on the road he was supposed to be on. In fact, he was pretty certain he had never been down this road before. How he wished for one of Sans' shortcuts right now, as weird as they were. It would be so easy to just... walk right into the show. He would have to improvise.

Papyrus parked at the side of the road, taking out his phone, red with crossbones on the case, and started to text Undyne.

"UNDYNE, WHICH ROAD IS THE ROAD TO THE EBOTT CONCERT HALL?" He fidgeted with his large gloves as he waited for a response. How he was still able to text despite wearing them was a mystery, never to be solved.

"976 Stone Drive" The response came after about a minute. "See you there, punk!" Undyne added a weird little face to her text, some sort of daring smile. Papyrus smiled back, despite there being no one to smile to.

Papyrus put his phone back into his bag. The concert started in only a few minutes. It was time to put the pedal to the metal. Distract himself for a night, stop worrying about Sans, he'll be fine tomorrow, just forgive and forget.

His car blinked to life as he turned to the key, and he spared no time in sending his car racing down the street. Turning the vehicle around, Papyrus quickly scanned each passing street as he zoomed by them. Oak crescent, no, Home Street, no, Stone Drive, there it was!

Rushing, Papyrus took a sharp turn onto Stone Drive, dust flying off of his wheels, in a reckless move.

He didn't notice the car driving straight through the intersection, right towards his own.

* * *

Sans peeked up from his bed, eyes finally ready to bare the moonlight streaming in the window. Despite his lethargy, he found little sleep in tonight. Something kept him on his toes, this anxiety that wouldn't go away. Maybe today would be the day the human decided to reset. Maybe the flower would come back, or maybe he was just being paranoid.

Sans stretched out his bones, feeling a bit of that apathy drain away, replaced by his growing fear. It was better than feeling nothing, at least. Sans pushed himself out of his bed in a feat that would have seemed superhuman only a few minutes ago, though this rising tension made it slightly easier. Maybe he would get dressed after all. Sans pushed himself to the pile of cloths in his room slowly, moving lightly and with a sluggish haze around his every action.

It was then that he noticed his phone buzzing in the haphazard pile of clothes it was buried under. Sans dug out the phone, phalanges awkwardly trembling as he pressed the power button. " _9 missed calls, 5 unread texts, 2 voice messages."_ No... Something was wrong.

Sans' soul started to beat faster, in a way that reminded him all-too-much of the first resets. That feeling that only came when grief was near, and as much as he tried to push the thought from his mind, he could feel another soul wavering somewhere else. He opened the text, bones rattling uncharacteristically, yet his trademark smile only wavering slightly.

The first voice message. It was from Undyne. He nervously tapped the play button.

"SANS GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE PAPYRUS IS IN THE HOSPITAL WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?"


	2. Fall

Sans was over to the hospital before he even knew what he was doing.

Hours passed. Or was it days? Minutes? Honestly, it was getting harder to tell by the second. Undyne's screamings cut off into a fuzzy background noise at some point, and his eyes didn't seem to focus correctly on any point in the room. The only thing that really seemed clear was the feeling of worry in his bones. To have come so far, to have come to the surface only to have his brother die anyways? Sans couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed his brother in some way, and it ate at him. That worry that Papyrus was already dead, and he didn't even say a proper goodbye.

After what seemed like several more hours, a stout monster in a nurse's gown walked out into the hospital lobby. Her small beady eyes contrasted her large round glasses, and her tusked furry appearance gave her a surprisingly fearsome look, despite her short and useless claws that could barely hold the clipboard in her hands.

"Are you Sans... the skeleton?" The nurse paused to bring the clipboard closer to her eyes, before looking down at the smaller skeleton. Sans swallowed a blot in his throat, clearing his mind for but a second.

"yes." Sans' voice was raspy, despite his attempts to keep his guilt and panic down.

"Do you want to see Papyrus right now? He's still in treatment, but his condition... it's... stable." The hesitation instantly turned a knot in Sans' nonexistent stomach.

"take me to him." That tone sounded a bit angry. He didn't really want to seem angry, especially when it was mostly just at himself, but he really wanted- no, NEEDED to see Papyrus right now. To tell his brother he was sorry he didn't come with him, to help him recover. "sorry, i'm a bit stressed."

"C-come along then, and watch the wires." The nurse's bit her lower lip, fangs almost drawing blood. The monster nurse started to walk down the hall, slowly, every step slightly shaky.

Sans hesitantly followed, Undyne staring at him as he left. Her fins laid flat, her fists clenched and her eyes unblinking in their vigil. The look was pitiful, for such a powerful warrior.

He wanted to say, or at least to think that everything would be fine, but he knew it wasn't. He'd done just about enough lying already to have ended up in this sorry state, and he wasn't going to pretend everything was alright as his brother laid dying.

"well... talk to you later, dyne." Better than nothing, he supposed.

* * *

Everything was dark. Dark, darker yet darker. The pain was instant, but the web of fracture-lines and marrow weaved their way out not long after, dissolving everything he saw felt and saw into pure nothing. Noises and sound blared out from what seemed to be everywhere, but it all dissolved into the nowhere around him.

Papyrus was alone. Utterly alone. This feeling hurt more than any broken bone could, any splintered joint. This feeling of being completely detached, in who knows where. How funny it was, that the great and brave Papyrus was afraid of nothing itself.

The darkness, the emptiness, carried on for what seemed like forever. His own soul grew hush with and uncertainty, as the darkness seemed all-encompassing. Like an endless horizon, the void continued on, longer and longer, forever and ever, until... he could feel something. A small pulse in this unending silence, a small noise that drew his own soul to it. Maybe he wasn't completely alone, or so he hoped.

His search came to an end as he stumbled upon a figure, wrapped in the darkness. It was a skeleton, of a similar build to his own, with a round, cracked skull. Two holes were punched into its hands, and the look on its face reflected only emptiness. Papyrus felt his soul pick up in beat, a bead of precipitation dropping down his skull. His bones began to rattle slightly. What was happening? Why was he so... shaken? NO! He must maintain his cool composure.

"GREETINGS MYSTERIOUS SKELETON, I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WHAT IS YOUR NAME!?" He forced a smile on his face, and extended a hand to the figure.

It stood still, shivering slightly under the thick wraps of its black coat. It gazed ahead, vacant and listless. Papyrus waved one of his gloves in front of the skeleton's face. Nothing happened. Cautiously, he poked its face, watching as his finger passed straight through its skull, becoming encased in sticky semi-solid bone. It was like a ooze monster, without a defined form, bone shifting and quaking at the touch. It was unsettling. When he quickly retracted his hand, Papyrus noticed a trail of grey seeping across his glove where his finger touched the figure's face.

"NYEH? WHAT IS THIS?" Papyrus tried to back off, shaking the greyness from his hand. The skeleton instantly sprung into action, clutching Papyrus' right forearm with one of its melting, holed hands. A voice sprang from it, garbled, distorted yet somehow perfectly understandable to him.

_"DON'T GO... IT'S SO VERY LONELY HERE. PLEASE, STAY HERE."_

Papyrus' first instinct was to fight back against his attacker, as he grabbed its arm with his left hand in return to try and push it off, but, stifling his irrational fear, he clumsily shook the hand instead, with both of his own.

"ALRIGHT, THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER FORSAKES A LONELY MONSTER IN NEED, SO I SUPPOSE I CAN STAY HERE A LITTLE WHILE..." Papyrus tried to jank his hands away, one of his gloves, the one over his left hand, getting stuck in the monster's melting hand. Oh no.

Papyrus blushed, nervously covering the injury on his left hand. A near perfect hole, save for a few shallow scars, caused by a childhood accident (or so Sans said. Papyrus never remembered much of their childhood.), near identical to the one on the figure's hands. Actually, the more Papyrus thought about it... he put his left hand over the figure's right as he reached for his glove.

They were the same size. Papyrus once again stifled this very un-Papyrus like feeling of fear and worry, pausing to ask a question.

"DO... YOU KNOW HOW YOU ENDED UP HERE?"

The figure shook its head.

* * *

The monster nurse stood by the door, ushering Sans to the front as she knocked gently against the door.

"S-Sans, come right this way." Alphys bit her claws anxiously, as she opened the door to an emergency room. It smelled heavily of marrow and sweat. The nurse stood by the entrance as a few seconds of awkward staring begun. Sans slowly meandered into the room, his hands playing with the pockets of his hoodie.

"...is papyrus ok?" Sans walked ahead of Alphys, despite moving at a pace that was barely more than meandering. She was stalling, quite obviously, intentionally moving as slow as possible across the room, shifting ahead slowly.

"W-well, he's not dying... At l-least not right now." Her tongue hardly worked, stuttering over every word. Her eyes were pressed to the ground, and her tail laid flat.

"can i speak to him?" Sans knew that this situation must be rather stressful for Alphys, given she was now put in charge of the life of one of her girlfriend's best friends, but Sans really needed some sort of assurance that Papyrus was alive and well right now, given the straining on his soul he could feel from all the pent-up emotions inside of him.

"No. Not right n-now." Alphys paused. "Y-you see, he hasn't been waking u-up."

Sans felt his spirit sink a little. "can i still see him?"

"Oh, of course." Alphys scurried ahead, shooing off a doctor who stood idle by the magical life support system. Alphys pulled back the curtains, and Sans saw why she took so long to get here. It was horrible. Papyrus' skull was nearly split down the middle, diagonally through his eyes, and though healing magic reduced what must have been a gaping fracture into a ugly scar, the sight saddened Sans. A few small fractures craned down his neck and into Papyrus' ribs, but they were healing much faster, to Sans' relief.

"His HP is stable.. b-but he won't move at all, and his s-s-soul... it's... well, we've never s-seen anything like it. S-Sans, there's a reason we need to talk to you r-right now, I need to ask you a question."

"alright." Sans felt a blot in his throat, but let it out a with a sigh. Things couldn't really get much worse than this, so a few questions seemed rather minor by comparison.

"Papyrus only has half a soul. W-we think this may be why he's in this state right now. Do you know what condition he has, or why his soul is this way?"

"twins, half and half." Kind of not a lie. Ok, mostly a lie, but there was a shred of truth in there, he did have the other half in him.

"I-I see. Thank you." Alphys looked around the room for a split second. "Look, I'm r-really not supposed to show you our data on his soul, but I don't want to leave you in the dark. W-we're friends, right?"

Alphys turned on one of the odd devices scattered through the room, the machine humming to life as a blue grid appeared on the small device's screen. A soul-monitor. She moved it over Papyrus' chest. There, displayed on the screen, was a small digital recreation of half of a soul, along with the stats and vitals attached to it. Something was off, however, as the model of the soul displayed clear cuts within the soul, and Papyrus' maximum HP was much too low, only 400, much below his usual of 680.

"stats are low."

"R-right. His soul has been tearing itself apart... it's been scattering itself into nothingness. His DT levels are very, very low, even for a monster, and his magic is as well. We don't usually see anything like this except in very old monsters."

Sans almost felt the lights go out of his eyes. "you mean-"

"Y-yes. I-I think Papyrus might have fallen down."


	3. Transfusion

"SO YOU CAN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING? NOT EVEN A SHRED?" Papyrus sat down in front of the skeleton-creature. "NOT EVEN YOUR NAME?"

The void was surprisingly soft, though that may have been because there was little defined surface to it. The skeleton he was talking to kneeled down to meet on his level, though it looked more like it just melted into a shorter state. The figure took a second to answer, face deep in contemplation.

 _"IT'S DARK. SO VERY DARK. OTHERS WERE MORE FORTUNATE. BUT THEY ALL LEAVE."_ The skeleton said, looking at the void around them.

"OH, ARE THERE OTHERS AROUND HERE? MAYBE THEY COULD HELP US?" Papyrus got up, scanning what could roughly be equated to the horizon of this endless black plane. It was clear by this point that he was utterly lost, and so too was this monster, most likely. He had to find somebody that knew the way, or at least somebody who could help this lost monster with its memory.

It was only when he had taken a few steps forward that he felt a sudden pain in his skull. Pulsing outward from his fractured temple and radiating to his soul, which spasmed in his mind. Letting out a gasp, Papyrus fell to his knees, clutching at his ribcage. What was that? The skeleton behind him suddenly rushed up, grabbing him before he could completely collapse to the ground. Its grip was surprisingly cold and strong, and despite the grey residue it left behind on his battle-body, Papyrus was happy for the support.

"THANK YOU, MYSTERIOUS PERSON. I FELT VERY NOT GOOD FOR A SECOND, WHICH IS UNUSUAL FOR THE GREAT PA-"

_"YOU ARE DYING."_

Papyrus looked aghast at the mysterious skeleton. The skeleton stared blankly at his chest, which glowed with a greyish light that dimly shone through his clothing. After a few seconds, the light faded, as the pain subsided, though leaving a dim soreness in his ribcage. The stranger reached out at his chest, but Papyrus put himself together enough to gently back down its hand. Surely he felt pain- but to the extent of dying? The crash couldn't have wounded him that badly, his soul was clearly still corporeal. Yet still, he couldn't find himself able to wake from this which he was becoming increasingly convinced was a dream. 

"NO, NO, I'M FINE. JUST A BIT WOOZY." Papyrus 

 _"I CAN FEEL IT. I CAN FEEL YOU. YOUR SOUL. STAY HERE. DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THE REST DID. I WANT TO THINK, I WANT TO FEEL."_ The stranger clutched a holed hand to their chest, before motioning back to Papyrus.

"WHAT?" The stranger had begun to make no sense. The skeleton could feel what he was feeling? He heard of magic that could be used for scanning souls, but never one that could sense emotion or feeling. Was this a new type of magic that the special stranger knew? That would be really interesting, but this talk was giving him bad vibes. The type that usually only Sans would feel- that marker that somebody was not to be trusted. It usually proved right, more often than not (perhaps one reason why Sans made it onto the guard- sort of).

Papyrus started to back away a few steps, fully expecting the stranger to reach forward again. But it didn't.

They just stared back.

* * *

"Sans? S-Sans?"

Alphys' voice was barely a whisper before Sans, yet it was as loud as a rooster's crow in his skull.

"dammit." Sans could feel his smile breaking as best it could. His hands trembling in their gloves. Soul quaking in his ribs. Frustrated tears threatening to pour from the edges of his sockets.

All this time, he had been dreading the kid resetting. Now he prayed internally for that one brush of the button. Any second, any minute, it would all be over. But no, this hell continued forth like any other, watching his brother slowly crumble away like he had so many times before. This time was different, though. This was supposed to be "a good run", where nobody died and nobody mourned. He was supposed to live a full life here, but it seemed the Surface held just as many terrible surprises as that underneath. Would things had been any different had he been there with Papyrus? He knew that from his time in the underground the answer would've been _no_ , as that forsaken flower made to show him so many times before, but on the Surface? It ate at him, paralysing his bones.

"Sans, do you need to sit down?" Alphys put her tail around Sans, guiding him to a bench. He didn't sit, however. He was consumed in thought.

Maybe. Maybe things could be changed. He'd know Alphys would be utterly opposed to the idea- but he also knew she had it. DT. Sans remembered as well as day when Alphys called him for help. Help that ended up ending disastrously, yet with a fleck of hope in the midst. And HOPE was what they needed right now.

"alphys." Sans paused. "do you still have the dt?"

Alphys' face grew bright red, her eyes widening, her sharp teeth biting down on her tongue. After a brief second, she shook her head, and stomped one of her tiny feet on the ground.

"N-no! I mean, yes I do, but I'm n-not doing that! You... you know what will happen!" 

"we just need to be more careful. you used too much last time, but i've made some progress on my own time. i know how to handle this stuff." Sans didn't like to disclose too much, so he kept his voice to but a mutter, yet despite that, Alphys recoiled as if he had screamed in her ear.

"No! I can't do that again! I refuse to, the risks are too high! I-I don't like doing this, but I put my foot down here!"

"did undyne teach you to speak like that, because i think you're blowing this out of scale."

"Sans, I can't believe you! Umph- look, the experiments were really bad, a-and they hurt a lot of monsters. I don't want to risk something like that ever happening again, even if the possibility is smaller." Alphys crossed her talons, looking down to the floor.

"alright, sorry, didn't mean to pressure ya. i know the experiments were hard on a lot of people, including you, but this time you have to chance to save a life for sure. we know how this stuff works, we just need to work it out."

"But we also have an equal chance of ruining it. Just- just like I did before. I don't want to see your brother hurt even more than he is, I don't want to be responsible for creating another amalgamate. I know you want your brother to be safe, but we're doing the best we reasonably can right now. W-who knows, maybe with the surface technology we'll be able to finally bring a monster back from Falling! B-but, not with DT, not after last time. Come back tomorrow, ok?"

"ok." There was no point in arguing. He was already formulating a plan in his head, glancing at his brother's cracked skull one more time before leaving. 

He caught a glimpse of the security camera on the way out.

* * *

He had to come late in the night, to make sure nobody was around. Getting in was easy, just a matter of taking the right shortcut. Covering the cameras? Even easier. Sans snapped his phalanges, and a skull-like blaster materialised in front of the camera in the corner of the room, blocking out its sight. Nobody would know it was him, except perhaps Alphys. And if he pulled this off tonight, she'd be grateful more than anything else.

Sans crept across the floor, his sneakers not making a single sound. He had learned finesse long ago, being a monster of low HP. Everything was a potential hazard, yet he moved with nimble and swift steps. It was strange. He never felt so alive as when his brother was so close to death, jumping over cables and controlling every step as to be as quiet as possible. Perhaps this was among the strange things that love did to a person, or perhaps it was the stubborn will to take control of fate that was so often stolen away from him.

Sans closed in around the hospital bed, standing over it like a stout shadow. Papyrus laid still, his face still marred by cracks, and a small pile of pallid dust lying by the edges of his skull. The cracks were slowly, but surely widening again. Sans was tempted to try to heal him, but a quick check on his soul showed that his HP was still maxed out. Only that his total HP had dropped to 360. At this rate, there wouldn't be anything left of him in a few days. Guess that was what he was here for. To end this.

Long ago, after the experiments with Alphys, Sans remembered feeling rather frustrated. Everything went wrong in a way that seemed almost right at first. Everybody looked so happy, their HP was rising, they seemed to remember things. Sometimes things that seemed strange at the time. Alphys quit looking into DT once things went south, but to him it only seemed all the more interested. It awakened something deep in him, some sort of primal memory. At the time, he didn't know what it was, but once he snuck out a vial of DT on his own... it was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. 

After his first shot, his body had started producing a little bit of DT on its own. Never enough to kill him, but enough for him to start remembering. He'd gone into it hoping to raise his HP, boost his stats perhaps a bit more, but in the end, he started remembering things, such as the endless loops that the flower started to weave. And sometimes, just sometimes, he'd remember the times much before the reset. Only in the vaguest of terms, of fleeting dreams, but persistent nonetheless.

Sans paused for a second. If he did this, would Papyrus start remembering too? The idea sat uneasy in his gut. That type of burden was something that nobody should carry, especially not his brother. Perhaps he should just wait for the reset, it was bound to happen soon anyhow. _But what if it didn't? But-_ Sans dismissed all of these thoughts in a second. He knows what he came here to do. And he will do it.

There was a machine through which a steady stream of magic was channeled into Papyrus' body, likely an attempt to stem HP damage from the persistent wounds. There were two tubes, one connected into Papyrus' ribcage, and the other on his arm. The one on the ribcage was closer to the soul.

Detaching the tube from the magic channel, Sans heard a beeping noise coming from the machine, though likely not loud enough to be heard down the hall. Still, he needed to be quick.

Taking out a small pocket knife from his hoodie, Sans raised the tube to his wrist, holding it tight to his bone. Then, using his blue magic as precisely as a surgeon's grip, Sans led the blade to his radius, grunting in pain as it dug ever-so-slightly into his bones. Just far enough to draw the slightest hint of DT from his bones. 

Redness flowed from the tiny wound, just a few drips into the channel. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven-_ that should be enough for Papyrus. Sans jerked his arm away, before reconnecting the channel. The DT was absorbed seamlessly into the flow, and Sans could feel a noticeable change in the pulse of Papyrus' soul after a few minutes of waiting had passed. It got faster, just slightly so.

Please let things be fine. Sans wished he could be completely fearless, but the threat of amalgamation or simple melting still hung heavy in his mind. He sat there for what felt like hours, though it must've only been a few minutes until he heard steps coming down the hall. Somebody must've noticed the covered camera.

Sans sighed. He would've stayed there all night if he could've, but he knew that for his and Papyrus' sake, he'd have to leave. Praying for the best, Sans got ready to go on a shortcut home, only giving one last peek over his shoulder before he left.

"see you in the morning, bro."


	4. Reconstruction

Sans awoke to a dim icy light shining through a lint-speckled window. The feeling was all-too-familiar.

He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting. Of course the kid was going to reset. They always did when something didn't go exactly as they planned for that "run". When they got wind of the accident they must've gone back once again. The memories of the surface were rapidly growing fuzzy, only kept in place by his will to remember them, snapping them back to sharper thoughts. Scrambling out of bed, Sans did not hit the carpet with a thud, but instead shifted to the laboratory in an instant, landing on the cool floors. It would likely be only a few hours before the human arrived, and he had to record every reset that had taken place thus far. If they weren't going to quit, the very least he could do was to keep track of these timelines. After all, according to the machine... there couldn't be many resets left until... until it all ends.

Sans flipped through the journal he hid in the rightmost drawer of the laboratory. Memories were hard to retain between resets after all this time, even with the help of DT and not being wholly a part of this timeline, so it helped to keep him from falling into complete complacency, knowing that at the very least, he could retain some shred of the past. The lab smelled heavily of ketchup and oil, just as he had left it before the reset, an empty bottle laid on the tiled floor, and the machine groaning in its failed attempt to start. Taking a pen into his mittens, Sans started to write down a few details for his future self to make note of.

 _reset no.342_ By Asgore's beard, had there really been this many? They started to blend together after a while (perhaps why he needed this journal). Pushing aside his mild surprise, he continued to write. _made it to the surface. no deaths- papyrus fell down on surface. felt fit to help him with dt._

Sans almost forgot about that, which was funny given it was the thing he did what only felt like last night ago. The decision was relatively paranoid in retrospective, but he was relatively certain that Papyrus would be alright. Seven drops of magic-diluted determination was probably even less than Undyne had in her, and as far as Sans knew- she did not know about the resets. Though, the question of how Papyrus even fell left a troubling blank in Sans' thoughts. Yes, he did sustain heavy injury during the car crash, but he's survived much worse abuse at the hands of the flower in resets long past without so much as a scratch after healing. Could their connection to the timeline be growing weaker? It was a possibility, but one that seemed rather unfounded at the moment. The other possible reason- the emotional one, disturbed Sans all the more. What reason would Papyrus have to lose determination? To need a transfusion from himself, who already had so little determination that he had become practically reliant on the DT injected into his soul what felt like eons ago. 

This morning was a whole bunch of awful questions with no answer in sight.

* * *

A rustle passed by in the darkness, then a thud. The darkness faded into a shallow slumber, leaving behind only a dim memory of a phrase.

_DON'T FORGET_

A great pain was flushed away from his rib cage as he felt his eye sockets pop open. Papyrus let out a small snort, sitting up from the floor, where the blanket of his race car was sprawled out across the floor. He was on the floor of his room, which was strange, because last thing he remembered, he was... _somewhere_. Somewhere dark, and with somebody in it, though who was rapidly escaping Papyrus' memories. All he could remember, was an accident, then a broken mask-like face, a vague recollection of events, and that last call from the darkness.

Was it all a dream? Doubt was rarely in the domain of the great Papyrus, but right now, it wracked his mind. Indeed, it couldn't have been a dream, for he remembered everything so vividly. A shining bright flash, marrow falling over his skull, walking in the weird shadow-land. But on the other hand, Papyrus couldn't feel that pain in his chest anymore, and he was relatively certain that it was the result of whatever hit him before everything went dark. Remembering the accident, Papyrus raised a hand to his skull, only to find a pristine, untouched smoothness, then moving to his ribcage to find it wholly intact. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe.

Then, Papyrus looked to his left hand, or rather, the mitten that covered it. The usual redness of it was faded, where the mysterious figure had touched it, leaving an unsettling grey imprint. Curious, Papyrus removed the rest of his battle body, leaving only his secret style on. On the back of the chestplate were two more hand-like imprints, their greyness seeping through the material. Papyrus hoped it didn't end up on the back of his "Cool Dude" shirt, though he wasn't really in the mood to check. There were more pressing matters, like making sure that human that hit his car was ok. They must be at the hospital. Oh, he hoped he didn't hurt them too badly.

Papyrus jumped to his feet, free from that pain that had plagued him minutes ago, stretching out his skeletal limbs. Then, it caught him. A slight chill was coming through the room. Darting to the window, Papyrus looked outside, only to see familiar snowy hills and glittering icicles on the window. He was back in Snowdin. Then surely it must've all been an elaborate dream, because the house had been moved to the surface in his dream, and that didn't make much sense anyhow. Besides, actually meeting a human? Befriending them? Surely it must be a dream of some sorts. A very long and confusing dream.

Oh no! He must be late for rewiring all the puzzles! How could he let himself be so lazy as to have such a long dream? Lying motionless for so long- it isn't healthy or productive! Papyrus threw his discoloured battle-body into the closet and jammed on a new pair of gloves. Slamming open his door, Papyrus rushed down the stairs to find Sans lounging on the couch, empty chip bag lying on top of his stomach. There was no time to talk to him! Practically sliding out of their house, Papyrus rushed through the snow, long legs striding over stone and ice.

Snow crunched beneath his feet as he came to a screeching halt upon his first puzzle, which was half-buried in snow and ice, but otherwise appeared untouched. Papyrus sighed a breath of relief. Sometimes the monsters in the woods would rearrange the patterns of the puzzle or remove parts from it, but today it seemed mostly intact. He'd just have to clear out the snow and move a few ice blocks around. It proved easy enough, extending his blue magic to wrap around the blocks and safely carry them away- but something felt different about his magic today. It was like there was another hand gripping his own, guiding it with a quaking hand that seemed to interfere with his own control. Setting down the block before he could lose control of it, Papyrus elected to do the rest of the ice-block pushing by hand.

* * *

 

Wiping a bead of frozen sweat off of his skull, Papyrus lumbered over to his station, leaning against the cardboard craftsmanship. There were a lot more ice-blocks than he thought there were, and doing them all by hand was time-consuming. Papyrus put his skull against the wall of the structure, looking out for a human. It had to be any day now, he saw it in his dreams. Before he could start thinking further about human-capturing, however, a familiar voice distracted him.

"hey paps, you look bone-tired." The slow and deep voice came from inside the station.

Spinning around, Papyrus saw Sans kicking up his legs inside his station. Gah, he hated how Sans would just... appear places out of nowhere. It gives him the heebie-jeebies, and Sans knows it too (which was probably why he does it all the time).

"SANS!" Shouted Papyrus, standing up straight in an instant. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING INSIDE MY SENTRY POST?"

"just came to check up on ya. i see you've got a different style going on today. been awhile since i've seen you outside your battle body."

"YEAH, IT GOT, AH... SNOWY. UM, I MEAN, THE DOG STOLE IT." Papyrus rattled his skull slightly, itching his neck with his mitten.

 "uh oh, i hope it ain't gone fur-ever." Sans gave a small wink.

"ARGH! SANS, STOP IT WITH THESE PUNS! TODAY IS GOING TO BE DIFFERENT, AND I HAVE A FEELING A HUMAN IS COMING, SO WE NEED TO BE PREPARED!" Papyrus said.

"you say that every day, papyrus." Sans replied, shrugging his shoulders, while keeping a single eye open. 

"YES, BUT TODAY IS EXTRA-EXTRA SPECIAL! I HAD A DREAM ABOUT A HUMAN!" 

"mmmhmmm..." Sans' brow lowered for a second, though his expression quickly turned back to a goofy smile. "anything else? in the dream, i mean?"

"NAH! JUST A LOT OF NOTHING!" Papyrus walked off towards the gates near the Ruins, determination burning brightly in his heart. "NOW I'M GOING OFF TO FIND A HUMAN! YOU SHOULD BE ON THE LOOKOUT TOO!"

Papyrus waved goodbye to Sans, waving his left arm high in the air. He could've sworn he saw a twitch in his brother's smile, if just for a second.


End file.
